


The Ways of Family

by Katritam (Scavenge4Dreams)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Everything that can go wrong..., Family Drama, Fluff, Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 11:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scavenge4Dreams/pseuds/Katritam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'I should have just stayed in bed' the little voice whined from inside his head. Its a very bad, no good, terrible, rotten day for poor Blair...followed by the week from hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Family

**Family**

This is my first Sentinel fanfic so please let me know what you think.

Summary: How will Blair cope after a really hard day and an unfortunate oversight on a promise to Jim, the anger of all the bullpen guys and various injuries?

Note- In most of my sentinel stories (as is the case with this one) I've played with the ages slightly, to achieve some of the characteristics and relationships I want. Blair is usually younger (22-25) while Jim remains about 40-42ish Simon, and the other bullpen folk are all between 37(Rafe) and 52(Joel) (with Simon being a year older than Jim).

My Blair is also on the physically small size being only 5'4 and 120lbs soaking wet. The others are same as in cannon.

By the way, I'm often criticized for being overly dramatic or too out of character, too bad, it's how I like to write.

**Chapter 1: Family**

' _I should have just stayed in bed'_ the little voice whined from inside his head.

This was strange, well, not that he had a voice inside his head, which was actually quite commonplace, the fact that the voice was actually whining was unusual. In most cases the voice, like Blair himself, was quite cheerful and content, and more often than not a bit of a chatterbox. Even in  **those**  cases, the voice never whined, instead it tended to take on a remarkable resemblance to Jim's voice. The 'You should be staying in the truck Sandburg' or 'Eating half an apple cannot be counted as lunch...'  _those_ were  _always_ Jim's voice, in fact most of the time they were actually Jim.

This time however, the little voice was definitely whining, although it was a little hard to judge due to the pounding that permeated his brain cavity. His head felt awful, his throat felt raw and to make things even better, he could hardly move his muscles were so sore. It was just one of those days. Everything that could have gone wrong...had.

And Jim was going to kill him.

Okay, maybe a slight exaggeration, but none-the-less, Jim would not be happy. WHY?

Whether it was working together, living in such close proximity, a sentinel/guide thing or just fate, Blair and Jim had grown very close of the past few years. Their relationship had developed into something resembling that of close brothers, and in some cases, even father/son like behaviour. Blair just seemed to have specific affects on particular groups of people, for instance, If there was a serial killer or someone of vicious, usually illegal intent within a hundred miles of cascade, than guaranteed, Blair, usually through no real fault of his own, would be stuck right in the middle of it.

Being the trouble magnet that he was it was probably all well and good that he indivertibly chose the finest of Cascade's major crime unit as his friends, protectors and family, in particular, the men of this group, who were predominantly much older than Blair felt the need to protect the young anthropologist, as while it was obvious that the boy could talk rings around just about anyone they came across, it was also woefully obvious that he had no real sense of self preservation, in anthropology that didn't really present too much risk, but it was a whole other ball game in crime investigations.

Each and every one of Blair's self appointed family knew that the grad student was certifiable genius, a complete set of walking, talking encyclopaedias and a basic Google search along with an incredible sense of loyalty, compassion, kindness and decency all crammed into one small, 5'4" individual with a soul and heart of infinite size and immeasurable quality.

With the way that Blair attracted people, both the good and the bad he was never short of champions, defenders, sounding boards, shoulders and in some cases, discipline. It seemed that each member of Major crimes had seen fit to take the young anthropologist under his wing. Most of the time Blair quite enjoyed his relationship with the guys, for although they all treated him as a nephew, younger brother or son, they also respected his intelligence and input, not belittling or underestimating him because of his age. All the men cared for the boy (as he was to them- much to his protest that he was almost 22) and as the relationship deepened and mutated he found himself subject to their love and in very rare cases their disapproval.

That was one of the biggest things he had to adjust to, although he had the unwavering love of all the men (a fact that he sometimes forgot or disbelieved due to his own upbringing) he also had to face the disappointment and anger of all of them if he did something they didn't approve of, (like forgetting to eat or putting himself in danger) In most cases however, he was usually only offside with one or two at a time and had the others support.

It kind of peeved Jim and Simon off, that they could both be furious with Blair for leaving the truck during the middle of a shootout and Rafe, Brown, or heaven forbid Joel(he was the worst, completely wrapped around his honorary grandsons little finger) would be treating the boy to a hockey game on the sly. Although Jim, nor Simon would agree, in reality it was probably a good thing that in most cases he had someone on his side, as reassurance that just because they were angry didn't mean they didn't love him or wanted him gone, for if there was one thing that Blair was insecure about it was the belief that he was worthy of love, an insecurity that came from years of being used to play into his mothers affections than cast aside like an old toy. Eventually everyone got rid of him, and if his own mother couldn't love him, than who could be expected to? None of the guys knew anything other than the basic facts about Blair's childhood, that his mother was a hippy and that he had travelled a lot before starting Uni at 16 years old. And that was the way it was going to stay, he knew, just  _knew,_ that if they ever found out how screwed up he was that they'd be saying goodbye forever. Blair just didn't have enough faith in their love for him to come clean.

In the three years they had worked together the sentinel and his guide had worked out a sort of routine, basically, after the number of times Blair was kidnapped, drugged, shot, killed, etc, as well as the thee times Jim had found Blair out cold at some ungodly hour of the morning and rushed him to hospital only to have to watch as he was pronounced exhausted and malnourished, yet again, an agreement had been made. Well, Jim had spoken and Blair had nodded sheepishly as he sat shamefaced on the couch after return from hospital after the third such visit, dark circles contrasting with pale skin and slightly shaking hands holding the mug of soup.

The conversation (if you can call it that) had gone basically like this.

**************************Flash back- **********************************

Throwing the keys into the basket as he passed, Jim steered the small figure along with one hand at the small of his back. He spoke as he walked "I can't believe... again chief...this is the third time in less than that many months. You need to stop working so hard" his tone, whilst not angry, yet, was disappointed and slightly aggravated.

Blair protested "But Jim, I'm fine really, I just stayed up a little late.. I have to do all this work...it's really important. I'm fine...it's really nothing to get so worried ab..." by this stage they had reached the lounge room and Jim gently pushed Blair down so he was seated, tugged the afghan off the back of the couch and tucked it to fit snugly around Blair, before he turned and headed into the kitchen. But he didn't say a word, and a silent Jim is never good, it means he was actually thinking before he spoke.

Jim came back out of the kitchen a few minutes later with a steaming mug which he placed on the small table beside the couch, before squatting in front of Blair "Give me your hands "he asked and waited until Blair placed two small hands onto Jims large ones. The delicate bone structure almost vibrated with fatigue as they lay on Jim's palm before being all but engulfed. "Blair, your hands are shaking, you have circles under your eyes that are so dark they're black, and your skin is so pale I can almost see through you...you are not fine. You are fatigued and malnourished" He let go of the small hands only to place the warm mug between them, holding them steady, he ordered "Drink... No I don't want to hear it... drink."

Blair seeing the determined look in Jim's eyes took a sip of the cups contents, chicken soup.

Trying his luck, Blair asked "But Jim, what about my classes at Rainer, I have to be at them by four and then tutoring until at least six..."

Jim cut him off "I rang the Uni while you were still out cold and told them to replace you for the next two weeks at least, I also organised one of your friends to take notes for you".

Blair almost dropped the mug, actually would have it hadn't been for Jim's hands as his emotionally charged mind heard Jim's declaration "What! You had me replaced, Jim man, that's going too far... I'm fine, I have to work! I know you were worried but really, I'm 22, I can take care of myself, I love having you in my life, and thanks for everything you do, in fact thanks for everything all you guys do for me. But I was able to take care of myself before we met and I know I am perfectly capable of doing so now...I learned to take care of myself long ago, in fact I've just about always car...I'm a perfectly capable adult thank you very much! " He was physically and mentally exhausted, to the point where everything he felt was in the extremes, as though twenty thousand vaults was currently passing through his emotions, sending everything skyrocketing out of control.

UH OH, now Jim  **was**  angry.

" **TOO FAR!**  You call cancelling your classes when you're so damn exhausted you can hardly hold a mug going too far?! " abruptly he let go of Blair's hands and stood, pacing angrily across to stare out the window. Blair carefully tightened his grip on the mug, he didn't know how to accept someone trying to help him like this, It was the sort of thing an older brother or father would do and he had no experience with either, he just didn't understand why Jim would bother.

Jim's voice came from the window, his eyes still staring unseeing, his hands clenched angrily "You may be 22 and for all legal purposes an adult, and believe yourself to be capable of caring for yourself, but despite what you may believe evidence points to the contrary, because you ARE NOT FINE. For god's sake, you just collapsed from exhaustion... I know you have always been independent and reliant on only yourself for a long time but the fact remains you shouldn't have had to have been, and now you don't. I'm sorry Blair but I can't sit and watch someone I love self destruct like this. Can't you understand that...Do you know what it was like for me, I come home from a two week stay at a convention in LA, expecting to find you up and waiting, healthy and fine as you told  **Simon and I,**  you were over the phone, and what do I find?" He turned blue eyes to Blair that showed an emotion that Blair didn't recognise. "How the hell am I meant to explain your condition to the bullpen guys, they'll be after my blood, I come home to find you collapsed on the lounge room floor, unconscious...I thought you were dead! And that would destroy me" Jim finished on almost a whisper.

Blair shuddered, he hadn't thought about Jim's perspective, it made him begin to think about how he would react if he had come home to find Jim, decked out on the floor, so still... The image flashed through his brain, bringing a tide of fear so strong to an exhausted mind and body already running rampart with unusually strong emotions, he felt as though he had been struck by a car. The cup, luckily almost empty, fell from nerveless fingers landing with a dull thud on the carpeted floor before rolling partially under the couch. Blair took a shuddering breath. Jim dead...the shaking suddenly became ten times more pronounced and he squeezed his eyes closed tight, trying to forget the image. The best friend he had ever had, his blessed protector, dead... a chill unlike any he had felt before swept through his body like ice fire.

Jim closed his eyes as he wearily leaned against the cool pane of the window, he didn't know how to get through to the boy, make him understand... He heard the soft gasp and the dull but resounding thud as the mug hit the floor. He spun around and upon seeing the glassy blue eyes, and the harsh tremors that sook the small frame, he quickly closed the distance between them. "Chief? Blair..." he saw a pearl tear make its way from a tightly clenched eye. "Hey, Blair, you're okay" he crooned sitting on the couch and pulling the shaking figure to his side, frantically running what he had just said back through his mind, but coming up empty as to what had caused this sudden turnabout from determined defiance to something bordering on hysterical catatonia. Although he was furious that Blair had done this to himself, again, he'd had no intention of upsetting the boy, not when he was so exhausted and already emotionally unstable.

"Hey now...it's okay, come on buddy, you don't have the energy to get upset, it's okay... take a deep breath..." Blair took a rasping breath, trying to get back under control. Seeing that Blair was actively trying to get himself under control Jim continued speaking to offer him an anchor" Come on chief slow breaths, I need you to tell me what this is all about, Cos I've gotta tell you buddy, You've lost me..." This was obviously the wrong thing to say as Blair suddenly went even paler than before, if that was possible and swayed alarmingly where he sat, as though about to pass out again. Jim bodily lifted the boy into his arms, cradling the chestnut wreathed head against his chest  _what the hell was going through the kids mind_ , _what was the last thing I said before he did his skin as white as snow impression again? Energy? Nope, Breathing? No. Lost M... oh shit!_  As it dawned on him Jim, he pushed Blair far enough away from his chest so that he had direct line of sight with the presently closed lids, with Blair cradled in his left arm he cupped the white face with his right hand, thumb gently brushing the smooth check, tactile support, for Blair of course. Steadily he began to speak "Blair, I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere, come on buddy, open your eyes take a deep breath, look at me, I'm still here and so are you, still together. No one's leaving you alone, That's it, Slow and steady, I'm still here" he encouraged as Blair slowly opened his eyes and actually began to listen,  _Jim was still there, not going anywhere._ He suddenly gasped again and threw his arms around Jim's waist, hiding his face against the broad t shirt covered chest.

Hiding his face from the worried blue gaze above him Blair gave into the shuddering sobs fighting to escape him.  _God he was so pathetic, of course Jim was still here, not going anywhere, was he? What the hell was going on with his emotions, one moment he was so angry he was ready to explode, then he was cowering beneath a fear so strong he could breath, now he was sobbing all over Jim, face beet red with embarrassment so acute he couldn't bear to look one of the people who meant everything to him in the eye. Oh god, Jim must hate him._ This thought once again sending tendrils of panic through him,  _what if Jim sent him away, he couldn't bear it. What the? He was an independent full grown man...so why the hell couldn't he stop crying?_

Jim gently rubbed his hand over the full length of Blair's back, not that this was a very large area. The doctor had warned them that Blair's emotions would be out of wack and he wouldn't have much control over them until after he got some rest, something about the body's natural mechanisms used to stay awake, increasing every emotion. He just had to calm Blair down, enough to get him to sleep, he had made as much of his point as was going to be possible tonight and the rest could wait until Blair was more, or less, whichever way you wanted to look at it, himself.

Jim continued the gentle rubbing motion until he felt Blair's rigid body start to go limp against him, and then thinking that Blair was asleep he stood, taking Blair's 120lb form up with him cradled in his arms. Relishing the moment, the feeling that at this exact moment he was keeping Blair safe from everything, taking care of the boy his partner really still was, because no matter how grown up or mature the grad student was, and there was no doubt that he was much older than his years in many ways, the fact still remained, a fact that the bullpen guys picked up on straight away, Blair really was still just an innocent, naive 22 year old boy. Smiling to himself Jim crossed the room to the small doorway that had become Blair's, thinking, or rather knowing that Blair would never let himself be carried if he was awake.

As Jim set the small form down on the soft bed he heard a murmur that was so low, only sentinel hearing would register it. "I'm sorry Jim, I really am, I promise I'll do better...and I'll own up to the guys... _and Simon_ on my own" the last was lower than a murmur and even sentinel hearing was hard pressed to picked it up. Blair was deathly afraid of the others reactions.

Jim looked into the sleepy, exhausted blue eyes "I'm going to hold you to that promise, I give you free access to my senses and let you tell me what's best in regards to them. Well junior I want you to let us do the same, let us take care of you. You're like a brother or a son to me and the guys and we never want to lose you, and after the few close calls recently,well we're worried, we want you to let us take care of you, stop trying to be so independent, you're so open, generous and you never refuse to help someone, you've taken on a lot more than anyone should be asked to do over the last few years, with your Uni course and the classes you teach, the private tutoring you offer , not to mention the other side of it, the police work and my sentinel stuff. The guys and I aren't asking you to drop anything or refuse others, because if you did than you wouldn't be Blair, at least not  _our_  Blair. We just want to help you manage such a large workload. Help you manage the things you think matter less but we disagree, like eating and sleeping..." Jim finished seriously.

Blair muddled through the words that seemed to be seeping out of Jim's mouth in slow motion. He kind of liked that Jim was being rather sentimental; he had never had a male role model or anyone in that position to tell him they loved him or even to tell him off. He sighed in resignation "Okay, I promise I'll try." The words were wispy and slurred but the sentinel understood them no problem.

Leaning down the older man gently brushed the brown ringlets off the still pale forehead answering "That's good enough for me, now sleep" the last directive wasn't needed as Blair was already out like a light bulb.

***********************************End Flashback***********************************

From that day on Blair took care of Jim's senses and in return, Jim, Simon and the rest of the bullpen gang made it their responsibility to take care of Blair, period, making sure he ate and slept enough. Breakfast was Jim's responsibility, and usually he and Blair ate at home, before leaving for work, sometimes, when time was in short supply, they would grab a bagel from the deli across from the station. Dinner was also easily organised, as Blair and Jim took alternate nights to cook both their dinner and the whole gang would meet up at a pre- designated house or restaurant on Friday night.

Lunch, however, proved to be a bit difficult to manage, as it was never certain where Blair would be, at the station or at the Uni. If he was a t the station there wasn't a problem as the gang would all sit down a have lunch together, those that weren't in the field that is. At the Uni though Blair would become engrossed in his work and often completely skipped lunch, and because he didn't snack while at work (he never seemed to have a free hand) this meant he didn't eat between 7:00-7:30am and 7:00-8:00pm, leaving him feeling rather peaked and less able to concentrate, not a good thing he had tests to both sit and write, and definitely not a good thing when involving oneself in shoot outs.

It was Rafe and Brown who finally fixed the problem; both men were on lunch break at 12:30, the same time they knew Blair had his own personal office hours. They drove to the Uni and dragged Blair out o his work long enough to eat a decent meal, before they headed back to the station. Simon re-arranged the schedule, so someone from the gang had lunchbreak at 12:30 every day and they were assigned the duty of "Lunch Sitting" Blair, a term that even Blair found funny.

Jim also made sure the grad student slept a decent amount each night, he was sure that Blair would become more of a morning person if only he got more sleep. One all nighter, on occasion, when necessary was not frowned upon, but the constant after 3am bedtimes were. Jim would tell Blair that it was time to start thinking about turning in at around 11pm, and Blair would murmur a yes into whatever he was working on, or nod distractedly. Jim would come down the stairs two hours later for a glass of water or a toilet pit stop and find the curly head still visible over the back of the lounge, the tapping of laptop keys or the scrawl of a pen audible to sentinel ears from the middle of the staircase.

After many yelling matches in which Blair insisted that he was fine and "absolutely  _had_  to stay up" and finish whatever he was working on, despite having plenty of time until it was due, while Jim adamantly argued that the opposite was true. Jim tried everything, all of his idea's, all of the ideas from guys, even ideas from the net, most centred around how to get unwilling kids to sleep. Jim even hid all of Blair's work stuff, hoping that with nothing to do the student would just go to sleep anyway, instead Blair, being stubborn, sat awake on the couch all night, just to prove a point that both he and Jim were unsure about. Finally Jim could only think of one thing left to try.

************************************** Flashback***********************************

Jim stood from the coach as the Terminator's credits started rolling, glancing at the clock he saw that it was 11:15pm, and decided to turn in as he had to work tomorrow. H e knew that Blair wasn't working on anything with an impending due date so looking across to where the curly head was bent over the book sitting on pulled up knees he suggested that Blair do the same "Hey kiddo, it's getting late, why don't you finish that tomorrow and go catch some shut eye, we had a pretty big day today, and tomorrow we have Kellinger's trial, so it will probably be just as busy".

Deep Blue eyes peeked out from behind cascading chestnut curls, "Yeah, sure Jim, Just give me a few minutes to finish this chapter" Jim nodded and headed off to clean his teeth, before heading up and sliding into bed, placing his sleeping mask over his eyes to block out any pinpoint lights and slipping in the soft foam earplugs that Blair had gotten him to soften street and city noises while he was asleep. He was just drifting off 40 minutes later when he had just about the worst feeling anybody can get when their comfortable and warm in bed, almost a sleep.

He had to go.

He slipped off the mask and, without bothering to remove the earplugs, lest he drop one, he headed down the stair and into the toilet. It was only on the way back to the stair case that he saw Blair still curled on the couch, reading and highlighting passages from the book on his lap. He pulled out the earplugs and tucking them carefully into his pocket he called out, "You finished that chapter yet?"

Blair's head shot up and an embarrassed blush painted itself on his face "Sorry man, I just have to finish this book, it's so interesting and I need it done for my class"

Jim snorted "Yeah, Your class that happens to be on Thursday...next Thursday, Blair you need to put it away and get some sleep"

Blair frowned "Jim, I'll sleep when I think I need it, and at the moment I think I need to finish this book" he protested with slight aggravation in his voice.

Jim knew that if this went on further along this track, Blair would end up yelling at him, he'd yell at Blair, bad feelings of anger would be created and tomorrow there would be a tired, guilty Blair and a pissed off, guilty Jim, because that's the way it always happened. Jim decided to try something different.

He wandered over and sat on the couch beside Blair, pulling the boys feet over his lap to make room "Fine then, I guess I'll just stay here, from now on You stay awake, I stay awake, you sleep, I sleep" Jim said the ultimatum softly.

Blair's head shot up again "What, that's just stupid! You need to sleep; you've got work tomor..."Silence reigned for a few minutes as Blair thought it through than shrugging nonchalantly he said "Fine, do what you like, I'm not going to tell you when you can and can't sleep" neither spoke aging that night with Blair finally going off to bed at 3:20am, followed by a tired Jim.

The next morning not much was said as Jim was allowing Blair to stew and Blair was angry that Jim was trying to manipulate him. Well it wouldn't work! He thought as he headed towards the station. And it didn't, for four nights. Blair stayed up into the wee hours of the morning getting less than3 hours sleep a night and Jim sat there right beside him. It wasn't until the fourth night that Blair looked up from his book at 10:30pm, to Jim who was sitting beside him reading his own book, and said softly "God Jim, This s ridiculous, I'm going to get you killed, I'm sorry, I'll sleep when you say I should"

"Good, because I could really do with some about now, we have stakeout tomorrow" with that he heaved Blair off the couch placed both their books on the coffee table and pulled Blair into a hug "Thank you Blair, now sleep, so I can" and gave the small form a gentle shove towards his bedroom. Jim was very glad that the only thing more stubborn than Blair was himself when it came to Blair's health because he wasn't sure he could have dealt with many more nights of so little sleep.

After that Blair would be asleep most nights by 11:30pm and the guys at the bullpen noticed something about the student that they hadn't even thought possible within the realms of physics, he got bouncier, more energetic, he was on the go constantly, and as long as he slept normally, never seeming to need a break. As H liked to say, Blair could put even the energiser bunny to shame. Much to Jim's disappointment however, Blair never did become a morning person, he in fact became even worse, Rafe theorised that it was because Blair had enough time to get into a much deeper sleep, allowing it to really sink its claws in that it was that much harder to wake him up, H simply said it was because Blair actually liked to sleep now.

***********************************End Flashback***********************************

After a few months in which Blair made sure he remained healthy, the closest scrutiny started to dwindle and he was allowed some of his own space again. Basically he had earned back their trust.

And now he had lost it again. He was so stupid! He should have just told Jim.

It had all started when Jim had told Blair that the Major Crimes sector was required in LA at a mandatory police training session, and that vice would be covering them for a week. Jim had asked Blair to come with them. Blair had really wanted to, but it was finals week and as he had both tests to write and mark for his students and his own to sit, he couldn't. The guys, although not happy at the thought of leaving Blair completely alone, especially during finals week, probably the most busy and stressful times of the year, they had accepted that they really had no choice, besides he had been much better the past few months. They gave him the spiel of eating right, sleeping enough, looking after himself and to ring if anything, anything at all happened. Blair had nodded and agreed that he would be careful and promised to ring.

So they had left and Blair had stayed, intending to be perfectly healthy and happy when they returned.

************************************Flashback*************************************

Monday-

The guys had organised to all travel to the airport in Joel's 4WD, and Blair was going along to drive it back. So at 4:15 that morning, when Jim heard the vehicle's approach he gathered his suitcase and made his way downstairs.

He put his bag in on top of what he presumed was Rafe's as it was the fanciest one there and then wondered to the empty front passenger seat, seemingly left for him as Simon's unofficial second in command, looking in the back he could see a reasonably awake Rafe and Joel, both sipping coffee. As his was the last stop before the airport, he asked Simon, who was in the driver's seat, also sipping coffee, "Where's H?" A low grunt and a hand was thrust over the far back seat. "Right, of course" A chuckling Jim said to the half asleep Henri, who was the only other person who was definitely not a morning person, although he wasn't in the same league as Blair. Right on cue Joel asked "Where's Hairboy?" Jim turned as if expecting to see Blair and when he didn't he sighed in exasperated affection before hurrying back into the building.

Blair was slumped fast asleep against the wall of the lobby. Jim reached down, lifted him up and basically carried him out to the car, tucking him in between Rafe and Joel, who clicked his seat belt together as Jim carefully, shut the door.

Climbing into the front seat and clicking his own belt, Jim looked back to see sleepy blue, peeking out from mostly closed lids, before the sliver the colour of late evening sky disappeared as lashes fluttered closed against the pale cheek. Rafe sniggered and gently tugged on a brown curl "Morning sleepy head" he teased, Blair, surprising them all answered "Morning Rafe" before turning and snuggling into Joel "Night Joel" he was fast asleep again.

The trip to the airport was mostly quiet, no-one really wanting to disturb the still morning atmosphere, each just enjoying the quiet company of the others. Upon arriving they had booked their luggage in and then headed to the food court area, making their way to a rather secluded spot for the two hour wait. Simon shouted breakfast, while Joel shouted second cups of tea or coffee. As 6:00am came and went the five men managed to wake Blair enough to get some brekkie down him as well as a few cups of tea, as they knew better than to ever give him coffee before 10:00am, from experience they knew that a hyper Blair was one thing, a caffeine hyper Blair at 4:00am in the morning is a whole other ball game.

When the boarding call came at 7:00am they were confident enough that Blair wasn't going to fall asleep in the airport waiting lounge after they left, and they were sure he wouldn't fall asleep at the wheel on the way back home in the 4wd. As they gathered their carry on items and their onboard entertainment in the form of magazines and books, Jim tugged Blair close and whispered in his ear " _Behave yourself while we're gone, no roaring drunk parties at the loft... Seriously though, promise to call if anything goes wrong, be careful, chief"_ Blair had nodded through a yawn "I promise" he said as he hugged back. He was then engulfed in hugs by the other four men with similar warnings and advice.

_Rafe: If you could take a vacation from the whole trouble magnet thing while we're away, that would be much appreciated, call if there's any trouble though._

_Henri: It's only a conference on morals, ethics and decent suspect treatment, all stuff we know and do already, knowing that if we don't you'll kick our butts, so if for any reason you need us, call, we can be back in a few hours mandatory training or not, everyone knows that major crimes unit has its own ethics, morals and conscience, his name is Blair Sandbur, our invite is only a formality._

_Joel: Take care of yourself; we need our anthropologist in good order to help solve crimes during the next spike. Really, Let us know if you need anything._

_Simon: Blair, good luck during finals, not that you will need it though, give us a call once a day to let us know how you are; don't forget._

This may have seemed a little extravagant for a 22 year old but this was the first time that they had left him completely alone since he had collapsed last time. Blair wasn't going to be a happy camper if he didn't take care of himself or at least let them know if anything went wrong, but what could possibly happen in a week, at Uni.

So they had boarded and left, and Blair after waving them off drove the car home, made some tea and grabbed some lunch before heading off to his first day of testing. Monday went perfectly. He ate lunch and dinner, and was asleep by half past 11. Perfect.

He should know that fate never let him have break yet, so why now?

Tuesday-

Things started to go downhill.

His alarm didn't go off on time, so instead of waking at 6:30am, with enough time to go over the exam material one more time, he woke at 8:30am with only just enough time to throw some clothes on and get to the Uni. He skipped breakfast promising to pick something up later. Only later didn't happen. His first exam went fine and he made his way to the second with no problems. However, half way through the second, some smart student decided to let off a series of stink pellets and smoke bombs off.

All the students leapt to their feet, rushing to get out of the suffocating smoke and toxic smell. Blair, having taken one of the only seats left, furthest away from the door was one of the last ones out, only escaping the room after having smashed his shin against an overturned desk. His eyes were watering and irritated and he was feeling a little lightheaded as he made his way to his car, after being informed that the test would be resat on Thursday. He wondered if he should drive or call a cab, but he really just wanted to be home in bed and besides taking a cab meant he wouldn't have his car tomorrow morning, so he drove home, thankfully he arrive quite safely. After making it home, eyes streaming and head aching, Blair fell into a cool bath, rinsing and re-rinsing his red rimmed, bloodshot eyes.

Painfully clambering out of the tub, he pulled on a pair of loose sweat pants and forgoing a shirt, he took two painkillers and slept for the next four and a half hours, waking again at 7:00pm.

He still felt a little ill to the stomach, but never once contemplated telling Jim as it wasn't as if he was dying. He skipped dinner, not realizing he hadn't eaten all day and phoned Jim's mobile.

Thanking god that he only got the message bank, he took a few deep breaths than left his message, sounding as happy and energised as possible.

" _Hi guys, I assume that you're at dinner or still at the training. I'm great; I've finished two days of testing, with none on tomorrow, so I'll be here most of the day, although Jenny is having a study group in the afternoon so I might head over there. I won't be staying up too late toning, just enough time to upload my student's timetable for next term. Goodnight and love you all, I will call again tomorrow"._

Uploading the table however, was a lot more hassle than he had predicted. The internet wouldn't connect, service was unavailable, and he noticed an error with the timetable itself, his computer crashed. What should have only taken half an hour took over six hours, but he had promised his students that it would be up tomorrow, so he plodded away at it, finally finishing well after two in the morning.

Wednesday-

As murphies law dictates, because he had nowhere he desperately had to be and no timetable to follow, his alarm went off, at 6:30am. Feeling incredibly tired, Blair reached up and pushed the off button before trying to go back to sleep. But it seemed that being waken up had informed his body that he really needed to use the bathroom. He shoved the covers back, and swung his feet to the floor. Standing up, he almost screamed as pain shot up his right leg and he let himself collapse back onto the soft mattress. Looking down he pulled the leg of his sweats up and stared at his lower shin. It was black, shiny and had an egg the size of a baseball on it. That desk yesterday had done a right number to his leg. He got the pain under control and made an attempt to get up again, finally making it to his feet even through the pain. He shuffled and hopped his way to the bathroom and did his business. But being upright made him feel really dizzy and nauseas.

Debating what to do, call the guys, or hope he was better before they came home he decided that a cool glass of water might help clear his head and soothe his parched, stinging throat. He slowly limped into the kitchen and pulled out a glass, filling it with water. He raised it to his mouth and was about to take a sip when the phone rang. Startled, he could only watch as the glass slipped from his fingers and seemed to fall in slow motion to the ground, where it shattered. Spinning as the phone continued ringing; he slipped in the water and went down hard, banging his head against the marble bench top and flinging out his right hand to catch himself he felt immense pain shoot up the limb. His right flank and shoulder landed in the glass, hundreds of tiny, razor sharp shards piercing and becoming imbedded in his bare skin, sending tiny rivulets of blood streaming across his back like some kind of morbid lace work. Red hot pain engulfed him and he blacked out.

The phones message machine picked up the call and the guy's voices filled the room. The phone was obviously on speaker."

" _Jim: Hey junior I guess you're either still fast asleep or you decided to head to Jenny's a little early_

_Rafe: Yeah, she's the cute redhead with those incredible green eyes isn't she?_

_Henri: Just calling to check in, we go your message hairboy, you take it easy on your day off, don't overdo it_

_Joel: Good luck on your exams kiddo, we'll see you when we get back late Friday night_

_Simon: Blair, ring us later toning, we'd like to actually talk to you, we should be finished around 8pm._

_Jim: Bye Chief,_

_Henri and Rafe: yeah bye Babe, hairboy_

_Simon: call us later Son,_

_Joel: take care Blair_

The massage machine clicked off, the callers unaware that Blair was currently out cold less than three feet from the phone.

Two hours later Blair began to come around. A low sob escaped him through the pain, his wrist was swollen and his shin felt like someone had beaten it with a hammer, his head hurt so much that he didn't notice two things, the yellow blinking light on the answering machine or the fact that his back was imbedded with glass and covered in dry streams of blood. He pulled himself to his feet and made his way shakily into his bedroom. He downed four painkillers dry and lay down on his bed. He could feel pain all over, couldn't distinguish one injury from another. He remembered Jim's demand that he ring if anything went wrong but couldn't do it. He wasn't a child; he could take care of himself, besides calling involved getting back out of bed...

This angry protest however was just a mask for his true feelings. What if Jim and the guy's realize what a burden he was? They always did after a while. Then they cast him aside, he couldn't stand to lose his new family.

If Blair had a normal upbringing with a positive male role model, like a father or an older brother he may have realized that he was being ridiculous, there was no way that Jim was going to give up his kid brother or son. Nor would Simon be willing to give up the boy he thought of as a son. Simon knew how intelligent Blair was in educational ways. But he also knew that the boy had virtually no experiences with an older male role model. Blair didn't know how to act around them and Simon was determined to teach the kid that not only did he deserve someone to care about him; he now had them whether he wanted them or not, Simon had adopted another son. Rafe and Henri both looked on Blair as their kid brother whom they were helping to raise. He was partially there responsibility, therefore partially answerable to them. And Joel. Joel loved Blair's kindness and generosity, but knew his tendency for attracting trouble. Blair was without a doubt both accident prone and a trouble magnet. This was part of why they loved him and would never give him up. Blair had never had to answer to anyone's authority like that and to suddenly having five was a little daunting and unbelievable.

He fell into a pained and troubled sleep; unaware that he was missing the call of time of 8pm or that again he hadn't eaten all day.

Thursday-

Blair awoke, feeling the immense heat that surrounded him, assumed that the air-conditioning had turned off, forgetting that it was the middle of winter. He was so hot that he didn't even realize that he had slept almost all of Wednesday and straight through Wednesday night. Looking at his clock he realized it was only 1pm. He had only slept for a few hours since his fall in the kitchen. Climbing out of bed he had to stop abruptly, repeated times to get the dizziness and the nausea under control. He slowly made his way shakily out to the lounge room where he found that the heater was on. No wonder he was hot, he though, he must have turned it on by accident instead of the air-con. Reaching up he flicked it across to its coldest setting and immediately felt the blast of cold air across his skin, which was so much better, he moaned in relief.

Looking at the phone he saw the light blinking and reached across to push it. The guy's message filled the air. Smiling softly at as their voices filled the air he worked out that he still had several hours before 8pm. Deciding that he really didn't feel up to going to Jenny's as his head was aching and he felt so hot and dizzy, he shuffle, hopped his way to the coach, and curled up. He slept again, until just past 10pm.

Waking up he looked at the clock above the mantel piece and saw that it was after ten. Oh shit, he had to call the guys. He reached for the phone and hit the redial number, but when he received a no service message he breathed easier. Jim would just figure that Blair had called and left a message but he couldn't access it because his phone was flat. Replacing the handpiece he didn't realize that the phone connection was partially unplugged, and had been since his fall.

He lay back down on the couch, back into the material and he was so exhausted and dizzy that he didn't know if he just fell asleep or passed out. Not realizing that the guys were a mere two hours away and coming closer.

Wednesday night in LA-

Jim looked at the other guys as they sat around the table with drinks in hand, poker cards and innings lying forgotten on the surface. Each was silent and they all knew why. Blair had been meant to call at 8pm, it was now 1:30 am and still no call. They had tried to reason it out and explain it.

Jim: He still hasn't called and he isn't answering

Rafe: You know Blair, he's probably still at Jenny's

All:  _laugh_

Simon: Even if he was at Jenny's he would still ring though.

Henri: But you know how hairboy gets when he's studying, he loses track of everything else

Joel: That's true, but we had him pretty much looking after himself properly before we left, I just don't want to see all that progress undone

Jim: If he hasn't rang by 10 tomorrow morning I'm going home.

Simon: I'll go with you

Joel: I think we all will

So it was decided. If Blair he hadn't rang by 10:00am the next morning they were out of there on the next available flight.

Thursday in LA-

10am came and went with no phone call and Simon booked tickets home. They all boarded the plane at seven that evening. No words were spoken as unabated worry warred with an awful sense of dread.

Friday morning Early in Cascade-

The taxi pulled up outside Jims loft building and the five men go out, Joel paid the driver and they headed for the lobby elevator.

Jim led the way through the halls until he reached his own door, not bothering to knock, he used his own key to unlock the door and all five men entered the dark apartment.

The first thing they noticed was that it was freezing cold. The air-con was running on full. Rafe quickly turned off the cold air with the hall remote and the soft humming that had filled the apartment disappeared. There was only silence. What the hell was going on?

Jim tilted his head before speaking "He's here, I can here six heart beats" Jim's ability's were no secret among the team. Rafe hurried into the small downstairs bedroom while Henri ducked up the stairs, they both came back shaking their head in the negative. No-one could see the small figure on the couch as it faced away from the entrance.

Jim tilted his head once more and followed each heart beat. Ruling out the owner of each, because although he could usually depict Blair's heart anywhere he couldn't here its familiar thum-thum, thum-thum, and he didn't recognise each of the others on sound. Finally securing the isolated one he headed around to the front of the couch. The others followed.

Blair was curled up on his side on the coach wearing nothing more than a pair of sweats in the freezing cold air. His skin was all translucent white, except his cheeks which were bright pink with fever.

Jim fell to his knees before the still body of his friend "Call an ambulance Rafe, Henri I need a blanket, he's freezing" As the two scrambled for the requested items Simon and Joel helped Jim do a quick check over.

Joel: I don't understand, what's causing the fever, he looks fine

Simon: I can't find any inj...Wait a second; his wrist is very swollen, perhaps strained or even broken

Jim, Help me wrap the blanket around him

Jim and Simon gently pulled Blair off the couch to rest more fully against the warmth of Jim's chest as Henri tucked the blanket he had fetched around the small form. Pulling the blanket tight and running a smoothing hand down the slim back, the men were startled when Blair let out a bloodcurdling scream and woke up

"Ow, Uh, Uoowh..." he was having trouble drawing breath and struggled against the arms that restrained him

"Blair, Blair, it's just us, Jim and the guys...you're going to be okay" as Blair quietened down to fitful sobbing of immense pain Simon gently pulled the blanket away from his back "Oh my god, what the hell happened?"

The guys were shocked at the sight of their boys back, blood and pus surrounded pieces of glass, infection ran rampart across the injuries, no wonder he had a fever.

"Ambulance is here" Rafe shouted and Jim went to lift Blair himself Blair soft gasp of "Careful...Leg hurts too" had Joel pulling up the sweat pant legs. His right leg was black and blue and swollen to three times its size from knee to ankle. "When did you do that?" he asked not expecting an answer.

He got one anyway "Tuesday" Blair murmured.

The five men looked at each other as Blair was lay carefully on a stretcher, thinking, You certainly have some explaining, but first they had to get him well.

 

 


	2. Waiting

 

**Waiting**

It was 4am and the cascade general waiting room was surprisingly empty, the distraught mother had just been ushered through with her asthmatic 7 year old, leaving only Major crimes finest draped in various positions around the room. They had been there for almost 3 hours, drinking bad coffee, and waiting on news of Blair since 1am that morning. Both Jim and Simon had suggested that the others go home and get some sleep, but no one had even moved, not that there had been must expectation.

The ambulance had arrived and Blair had been rushed into surgery, Jim over hearing and sharing what the doctors were speaking about; 105 degree temperature spikes, brain damage, coma flat line on route and CPR before they left earshot, leaving the two petite floor nurses to deal with the five large distraught men. It was only after much reassurance and 4'11 Nurse Lacey's no-nonsense insistence that the men finally allowed themselves to be led to the waiting room, both nurses had assured the men that as soon as they themselves knew anything about Blair's condition, so would his family.

For the first half an hour silence pretty much had reign in the small room, as each man came to terms with the happenings of the last few hours. Just a few short days ago Blair had been fine, healthy and safe. Now he was sick...very sick. Rafe finally got to his feet and raided the coffee machine on the other side of the room, having to make two trips, to fetch the five steaming cups.

He handed Taggert and Brown theirs first, white, no sugar and black, three sugars, respectfully, passing the satisfyingly warm liquid with a softly spoken word "H, Joel...seems we have a bit of a wait...Coffee?" he asked, both men, nodded, accepting with distracted gratitude "Thanks Bri..." murmured Henry. Nodding Brian made his way back to the coffee machine, looking at the choices, he knew Simon hated hospital coffee, proclaiming that it 'tasted like pigswill', which, compared to what the captain normally drank, was probably true. The team also knew that Jim's sense of taste often made things such as cheap coffee undrinkable...if only Blair were here...

Cutting off that line of thought Rafe decided on a cappuccino for Simon, hoping that the froth would mask the taste, and after much deliberation, weak white coffee, no sugar for Jim, hoping the weakness would allow him to drink it, but hey, at least it was hot, which was what they all needed...especially with the clinical coolness of the waiting room...and after the freezing cold of the loft...

Brian Rafe was an only child, and had known he would be a cop from the time he was 7. It worried his mother to no end, but he knew both his parents were proud. From the time he was about five he'd always been bigger than most boys his age, and having a lot of cousins both older and younger, he had somehow been appointed or appointed himself the protector of the small. At first it was his small cousins, and then his small classmates, and finally just people in general when he became a cop; at 5'11 most people who needed his help were still smaller. It wasn't until he met Blair that he felt he might be something other than just a protector, a helping hand. Blair made him feel intelligent, wise. Blair looked up to him, and Brian found that he liked it. He liked being Blair's older brother. And if Brian hated the thought of people hurting others smaller than them, then he couldn't stand to think about Blair hurt. So once again Brian did what he always did when faced with something he couldn't stand to think about, he pushed it away, bottling it up for an inevitable explosion later.

Dismissing this line of thought Rafe delivered his final coffees, glad to see that both men accepted and drank, with only slight grimaces, before he settled against the wall with his own coffee, black, just black...kind of like his mood.

Joel sipped his coffee and looked around the room; this was the worst part, the waiting. Quite frankly he'd rather know right now, be it good or bad news, rather than this awful time of not knowing. He knew the others felt the same, every time the doors would open, or the com system buzzed, all five of them would look up, only to be disappointed when it wasn't news regarding Blair.

The waiting room wasn't so much a room as a wide hall, placed on a corner, seats in an L shape, followed the wall. The other side of the hall hosted a series of candy and coffee machines. A set of doors on both ends of the hall, led to ER and the hall of private rooms, two doors opposite, and on either side of vending machines, each a further twenty meters up the hall, led to the nurses office and the on-call room.

Jim, at the insistence of Simon had claimed the corner seat, the wall at one shoulder and Simon at the other, the tall police captain, along with the other kept close watch on the sentinel, knowing that the hospital boasting many people, voices, footsteps, carts, and trolleys, the whirring, buzzing and beeping of machines, ambulances and cars pulling in and out, panicked relatives and friends...could all be overwhelming to Jim's senses, and without Blair there to ground him, Jim would be trying to rifle through the cacophony of sights, smells and sounds to find his guides heartbeat and scent, leaving him open and prone to a major zone out, one that the guys probably wouldn't be able to pull him out of. So they watched, and hoped to prevent it before it happened.

Rafe was two seats along from Jim, knowing that with Simon so close and the wall shutting him, in the detective would be feeling the lack of space. Henri was another seat along, with Joel beside him. Henri and Brian were using the seat between them as a coffee table.

Every few minutes Joel would look at the doors at the end of the left hall, towards surgery...and Blair. Somewhere in there his self appointed grandson, whom he loved like crazy, was suffering. And Joel hated it. Joel, whom many thought was among the nicest, most generous men they knew, had every right to be a bitter twisted human, life having dealt with him roughly. He had lost his son; nearly 10 years ago, Will had died at the age of 19, during an armed robbery. The death of their only child had nearly destroyed Joel and his wife of 27 years, Maggie, only there joined strength and unwavering love for each other had kept them going. As lkong as they were together,nothing could dampened his spirit, their love was that strong.

And then, one day, five years ago, Joel's whole world was ripped from beneath his feet and torn to shreds when Maggie was killed in a hit and run. Joel had transferred to major crimes several months before this tragedy, and had already been quite close to the men of the department before that, but even their rallying strength hadn't been enough to pull him from the deep mist that engulfed him, leaving him wandering, having lost his way. For almost two years, the happy, contagious belly laugh was missing, the twinkling eyes and bright smile absent. The whole Unit went down in morale. Joel wasn't angry or bitter, he just didn't seem to be there. Sure, he went about his daily tasks, arrived at work on time, did the paper work and went through all the correct motions, but he wasn't living, he was just surviving.

Time went by with no change; Jim met Blair, Blair followed Jim to work. The switchman case was solved and Blair bought down two of Kinkaid's men with a vending machine and a toilet door. Following the closing of the case Simon, H, Rafe and Jim, with Blair tagging along, had gone to the hospital to see how Joel was faring, having been shot by Kinkaid.

Arriving at the hospital, the men were bombarded by the receptionist, saying that there were several forms that needed to be filled out. Seeing as there were at least five forms that needed to be filled out in triplicate, and wanting to hurry the process, each member of Major Crimes grabbed a pen and started signing, indicating that Blair should go ahead as he didn't know Joel's details.

Ten minutes later the other four entered the room, only to come to an abrupt sight at what they saw. Blair was seated on the edge of Joel's bed, feet dangling a good inch off the floor, chestnut curls bouncing haphazardly around his face, Blair unable to stay still even seated. His hands were flying everywhere as he exclaimed, most sincerely to his audience "No! Really...she did...I'm serious..."

This was a common state of being for Blair though; it was Joel the men couldn't take their eyes off. His eyes were screwed up and he was shaking his head, tears were practically streaming down his face... and he was laughing too hard to care. Between gasping breaths and fits of laughter he finally managed to get what he was trying to say into words "No way Blair...there is no way she...and you..." and he lost it again, hands going to his stomach as the uncontrollable laughter used muscles too long idle.

Finally getting over their shock, the men made their way into the room, pulling up the two seats on each side of the bed, and snagging the two from the other unused bed in the room. Jim finally ventured "Hi Joel, How's the leg...I hope Chief here isn't causing you too much distress...I'm sure we can have him removed if he is..." Jim didn't see the worried look pass across Blair's face, too busy waiting for Joel to get himself under control and answer. Several moments later Joel was calm, having had several mouthfuls of water. "Don't you dare remove the boy, he's great...where did you find him again?" he asked, Simon answered "He's Jims kid-cousin...you didn't answer, how's the leg" Simon was worried that he'd lost a member of his unit. Joel sensing this, reassured him "It was a straight though-and-through, no long term damage, off work for four weeks, then ride a desk for another two and I'll be right as rain" he explained _._ The men smiled, relieved. Henri seeing the familiar twinkle in Joel's eyes, gone a long time, but back, just had to ask "So which of his questionable love trysts was Hairboy telling you about?" Blair turned to scoff at the doubt thrown on his prowess, when Joel lost it again, the memory bring back the laughter, It only took him a few seconds to get it under control this time, helped by the fact that he didn't have Blair's heartfelt exclamations of 'Honest' egging him on, finally said, much to the eager delight of the others "None, he was telling me a completely unbelievable, absolutely no way it could be true, 100% complete bull story... of his childhood" Jim, starting to get a knowing feeling asked "Who was it about?" and Joel promptly answered "Blair's mother" . Jim shook his head "Joel I'm sorry to tell you but, if Junior was talking about his mother than you've just been on your first 100% genuinely true trip to the Sandburg zone, congrats" seeing the stunned look on Joel 'face and the grins, some knowing and some guessing on the others Jim continued "Don't worry, I'm sure with time, and contact with Chief here you will become an expert at navigating the Sandburg zone.". Blair just shook his head in feigned disgust...

Joel smiled at the memory, since then, Joel had spent a lot of time with Blair, and he just found the boy to be refreshingly honest, incredibly intelligent and wonderfully innocent. As he had gotten to know the student better, and his affection had grown, so had his protectiveness. He looked up as the doors swung open again, but only admitted a nurse who smiled sadly at the sudden interest in her, shaking her head as she entered the office. Disappointed, Joel looked down, his worry and concern grew for the child he had take under his wing, and loved like a grandson.

Henri looked at the watch on his arm, 1:25am, then at the one on the wall, 1: 22am. He cursed the three minutes his watch was fast. Henri was youngest of 9 children, yet he had a younger brother. A kid brother in the form of Blair Jacob Sandburg. And despite having 8 older brothers and sisters tell him what a tough job, being the older sibling was, he couldn't disagree more...until situations like this arose. A little like Brian, in that he couldn't seem to just sit and do nothing, in cases like this, when there was nothing to do _except_  sit and do nothing, well Henri had a system, a coping mechanism, if you will. He made lists. Yes he knew it sounded like a stupid, or insensitive thing to be doing when you're waiting to hear word on someone you loves state of health, but none the less it worked. So Henri made lists.

He made lists of his five favourite foods.

-Chilli... _Blair made a mean chilli..._

-Fries... _A habit which Blair was trying hard to break all the men of, without much luck..._

-Choc, chip Ice cream _...Which Blair bought every Friday, from that little shop on the corner..._

-Taco's _...A favourite he shared with Blair..._

-Pureed Apple... _Yes the baby food, a fact that amused Blair to no end..._

He made a list of his five top holiday destinations.

-Great Pyramids in Egypt... _Blair said that it was hot enough to cook an egg..._

-Basalt totems of Easter Island _...Some of heads are three times as tall as Blair..._

\- The Leaning Tower of Pisa _... Blair insisted that it wasn't pronounced Pizza..._

\- The Eifel Tower _...Blair had many tales of tell about the love capital of the world..._

\- Ayres Rock _...Blair's does a great Aussie accent._

He made a list of his five favourite animals.

-Dogs (Golden Retriever) _...Man's best friend, kind of like Blair..._

-Monkeys (Pint size Pygmies)  _...So much energy for one so small..._

\- Cats (Long-Haired Burmese _...Blair likes to curl up in the sun with a book..._

-Polar Bears _...Blair likes to tell that he had a cub as a pet for a few months when he was 11...with Blair, who knows?_

It wasn't working.

Shaking his head in frustration, Henri got to his feet and paced across to the window, leaning against the sill to stare out at the clouds, hoping for something, anything to distract him...

_That cloud looked like the ancient Polish mask hanging on the wall in Blair's room..._

Simon looked up as a Nurse came out of the office, heading towards the surgery doors, and before he could stop himself, he was on his feet and moving to intercept her. The many visits that had been made to Cascade general hospital, particularly in the past few years, had given the whole team a rather uncomfortable familiarity with the staff, which is why Simon was surprised when he didn't recognise this woman.

Reaching her side, he called "Excuse me Nurse... the woman turned and seeing the tall man before her and glancing behind him, at the other four men, Simon knew she was taking head count, wondering who the patient was. "How can I help you Sir?" she asked.

Simon introduced himself "Hello, I'm Captain Simon Banks, with the Cascade PD, the gang of Major Crimes is behind me, were here for a Blair Sandburg...do you have any news on his condition?" he questioned. The Nurse, a woman easily in her 50's, obviously drawing conclusions from the men, asked "I take it this Blair Sandburg is a cop then?" Simon cracked his first smile of the night "No, no...Blair is only 22; he's an anthropologist up at the Uni...He was rushed here this morning...we haven't heard anything since then, we've been waiting almost 3 hours and we don't even know if he's alive...do you know anything about his condition?" he explained, seeming to confuse the nurse more.

"You should have heard something by now, even if it's just a rudimentary update...are you family?" she asked, peeking behind him again. Simon opened his mouth to say no... then stopped...

Well they weren't.. _.were they_? The fact that Simon had to stop and think about it indicated that the ties weren't as thin as they appeared... _but to claim to be family_? The boy had a mother... _but they were here and she wasn't..._  In fact they were always there, and she never seemed to be...they were there when Blair his finals, when he fell down the stairs at the loft and broke three fingers, when he finally turned 21 , when Holly dumped him for a rich Daddy's boy. They were the ones who had picked up the pieces after Lash... _Not Naomi, but them._

It had been Blair who had helped Daryl study for his year 12 exams...and Blair who remembering the date that William had died on, accompanied Joel to the cemetery. It been Brian that Blair had called when his car ran out of gas 3 hours from Cascade, when Jim had been in court. It was Henri that Blair had grabbed and pulled back from the curb when a drunk driver got to close...then backed Henri up during the arrest. It was Simon's house that Blair had broken into, when Jim had been in hospital last month. Simon had come out to get a glass of water at 3am and Blair had been asleep on the couch, Simon had grabbed a blanket and let him be.

And it was Jim who had held Blair after he woke up screaming, plagued with nightmares of Lash.

_Family?_

"Yes, we're Blair's family" Simon told the nurse.

The nurse looked past the tall dark skinned captain, to the motley crew behind him, and shaking her head she said "Okay, I'll see what I can find out". As she turned and continued down the hall, Simon himself turned and went back to his seat, knowing that there was no need to explain, Jim would have been recounting the conversation as it happened. Now all they could do was wait.

Jim didn't have to look at the clock or his watch to know that it was 2:53am, it had been 1:11 am when they had arrived and he had heard the tick of every second, and the slide of the minute hand since they got here, 102 minutes and 17 seconds ago.

Despite the fact that he couldn't hear Blair's heartbeat or smell his scent, he knew that Blair wasn't dead, just knew. But not being able to see or feel him was extremely unsettling, just because he could tell that Blair wasn't dead, didn't mean that he wasn't hovering at deaths door, alone, frightened.

He remembered with unusual clarity the agonised scream as Blair had woken up. The freezing cold skin, lips and fingers tinged blue. Eyes seeking his, asking for comfort, and something else...there hadn't been time for Jim to work out what it was, or he would have provided it, like he provided the comfort. He had held the small form in his arms, cradled against his chest, rocking back and forth slowly as sobs of great pain made their way down pale cheeks.

Jim could hardly believe it, less than five days ago they had left a healthy, bright, energetic Blair, only to come home to a sick, frail, ashen white child, knocking on deaths door. Jim was a mess of emotions a myriad of feelings, all vying for attention. Concern, fear, horror, fury, guilt, disappointment, frustration, failure, love, protectiveness, affection...and that barely scratched the surface.

All heads shot up when the doors opened again, and five men were on their feet in an instant when they saw the doctor headed their way.

 


	3. What's Lucky?

**What's Lucky?**

" _He's an incredibly lucky young man"_ the doctor had said, lucky _._

Lying in the clinically white room, in the clinically white bed, under clinically white blankets, skin looking clinically white, with two IV's and a breathing assistance tube...well, Blair didn't look very lucky.

And then Jim took into consideration the fact that he was still breathing, albeit with assistance... yeah, Blair was incredibly lucky.

After almost four hours of waiting, with only Jims reassurance that he'd know if Blair were dead, the doctor had finally graced the men with his presence. Seeing the looks he was getting the first thing Dr Morland had done was to reassure them that Blair was alive, although very ill. Apparently Blair was running an incredibly high temperature, one that should, in all essence have killed him outright, a fact which still baffled those working on him. He also had a fractured tibia, a slight concussion and several infected lacerations and across his shoulders and down one side.

The doctor had asked " _What happened to him?"_ to which the only reply the men had was _"We don't know"._

The doctor had gone on to tell them that with bed rest, and plenty of care Blair should make a full recovery, a fact that reassured the men to no end, until that is, the doctor rounded off his sentence with, " _...if he wakes up..._ ".

The doctor had then explained that the likelihood of Blair waking wasn't exactly favourable odds, and the likelihood of his mind being undamaged due to the high fever was practically nil.

Henri had wanted to go back to thinking about all the things Blair had done, experienced and enjoyed, rather than face the possibility that he may never do anything of the kind again.

Joel almost decided that waiting was better than known, and then realised that they were essentially still waiting...to know if Blair was still Blair. Knowing was definitely better.

Brian went to get candy from the machine, candy was good, safe...and a way to avoid thinking about Blair, lying there small and hurt...perhaps never waking up...no candy was much better.

Simon hated this part of loving someone, and almost wished Blair wasn't like a son to him...almost.

Jim didn't think anything, didn't analyse it, expect the worst or expect the best, he had just said " _We need to be with him..."_

The doctor had nodded; he hated these conversations, almost more than telling a family that their loved one had died, because he never knew how to help them deal with this non-grief. This particular family, unconventional as they were, had quite the reputation within the hospital. Most of the staff knew them by name, a feat usually only accomplished by the regular drug overdose patients. There were also certain stipulations, rules and guidelines that were 'unofficially' in place when treating any member of the 6 men. Just little things, learnt from experience that made things go smoother, the main one being, Never, is anyone to ever, under any circumstances, separate Blair from the other five, in especially Jim. If in the event, it becomes necessary, and it shouldn't, have Simon on hand to deal with Jim, and decrease the separation distance as swiftly as possible. The Doctors liked the men and the Nurses particularly liked Blair, which made him a particularly difficult patient.

Dr Moreland had pointed down the hall, saying  _"Room 328, second door on the left"_ not even mentioning that it was not visiting hours or that only two could go in at a time, who knew how long this family had left together?

Which is how the five men came to be seated around Blair's bed, adequate chairs borrowed and absconded with. Jim had one small hand in his, and Joel the other. Simon had a large hand on one blanket covered knee.

Blair didn't even twitch.

Doctors came by twice a day to check vitals and progress always reporting the same, no changes. The men sat, waited, chatting to each other and Blair about non consequential things, but there was never any answer. On Monday Simon had been called back to work, along with Brian, Henri and Joel, Major crimes unable to cover the loss of five officers any longer, but when the men weren't on shift they were at the hospital, homes becoming dusty from lack of use.

Jim stayed with Blair, unwilling, indeed unable to leave, thankfully a fact that Simon understood.

It had been four days since Blair slipped into his coma, and the fever had broken, the fracture splinted and in a cast, the cuts bandaged. Physically he was improving, but there had been no activity on the mental front. It was just after lunch and Jim had eaten a deli sandwich which the lunch trolley lady had been kind enough to spare. Jim had just tossed the wrapper when Dr Morland made an unexpected visit, and Jim, used to seeing the doctor in the mornings and evenings only, jumped to his feet expecting bad news.

"Dr Moreland, what is it, Blair's not worse is he?" the doctor already knowing how Jim would perceive his visit answered "No Detective, Blair is still the same as this morning, I'm here about you" the doctor knew that the battle ahead would be tough, but he had the ace up his sleeve.

Jim, confused asked "Me? What about me, I'm fine..." the doctor shook his head at the stubbornness of the man. 'No Jim, you're not fine, you haven't slept in four days and you've barely eaten' the doctor explained, waiting for the expected reply.

Jim didn't disappoint, "I'm fine, I've had plenty to eat, I just had a sandwich, I need to stay here with Blair..." the detective looked fondly at the boy in the bed, and the doctor hated what he had to do. "Jim I'm sorry to do this, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave, I will get security and enforce visiting hours if you don't get a solid 8 hours sleep". Dr Moreland could already see the explosion forming and headed it off, knowing that what he said next would win the battle "Besides your no good to Blair if you collapse from lack of sleep."

The doctor watched as Jim visibly deflated, agreeing with a reluctant nod. "I'll be back in 8 hours, you'll call if anything..." at Dr Moreland's agreement, Jim grabbed his jacket and left. Dr Moreland knew that it probably wouldn't be 8 hours, but he'd take what was offered, in truth he would never have banned the man from the room...but what Jim didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Dr Moreland did a visual sweep of his young patient, hoping he had done the right thing, before turning and leaving the room, returning to his other duties.

Which is why, when 40mins later, bright blue eyes appeared from beneath fluttering lids, there was no one to greet them.

Blair felt sunlight on his face, waking him with its gentle warmth, which was strange, because his bedroom usually didn't get a lot of sunlight. Maybe he'd fallen asleep on the couch again, but Jim would usually w...

Then it all came back to him, in a rush of memories.

The test, the smoke, and the bashed leg. The missed phone call...the incredible heat...breaking the glass...

And vaguely blurry memories of searing pain, light headedness, and being held...of Jim and Simon... Brian, Henri and Joel... and looking around the only thing he noticed, was that he was alone.

He'd managed to do it again, Blair the diseased, the unwanted, the unlovable.

He stuffed it all up, ruined everything...destroyed everything he touched...now, when he finally though he had a home and a family...he had to break their trust...again.

He didn't blame them...

But that didn't stop it from hurting.

Blue eyes, now not so bright closed once again, into an unnatural sleep, this one plagued by nightmares of a different kind. Eyes, usually kind, tolerant and loving, now unmasked, full of hate and disgust.

Simon signed the last sheet on his desk, and dropped his pen, already on his feet, reaching for his jacket. He locked his office door behind him and headed through the bullpen, to push the button and wait for the lift. A moment later he was joined by Henri, also pulling his jacket on. The lift stopped o the second floor and a vice officer and Brian got in. Vehicle garage, and the men Brian and Henri followed Simon to his car, where Joel was already waiting, ands as was the norm for every evening the past four days, Simon drove all four to the hospital to see Blair.

As was not the norm, they met up with Jim in the front lobby, surprised that someone had managed to prise him away from Blair, but happy that Jim looked at least a little more rested, all five made their way to room 328.

Jim, and Simon sat on either side of Blair's head, each taking a hand. The other three sat wherever they pleased, and Brian turned on the TV, although none could tell you what they were watching, they just appreciated the quiet background sound. Jim was asking about the day's work, and the men were filling him in, asking in return about Blair's day...if there had been any changes, too which Jim had to answer the negative.

It didn't matter though, they would continue to visit and support Blair, until he woke up. They wouldn't, couldn't abandon him. Faith was all they had, but for Blair, there was plenty t go round.

Simon knew that Blair would wake up when he was ready, but who knew when that might be...Blair didn't just march to his own beat, he had a whole band that followed him around.

Joel didn't think he could stand losing another he cared about, not Blair, who brought spark and happiness back into his own life, but he knew that it didn't matter how long it took, or what anyone else said or did, he wouldn't give up hope, he couldn't, for the other option was unthinkable.

Brian looked down at the small figure, pale against the covers, wreathed by chestnut curls, and hoped that dancing blue eyes and outrageous wit and intelligence would break the monotony soon

Henri was waiting for Blair to wake up, somehow he knew if Blair woke up everything would be okay, he wasn't sure why but he knew Blair would be able to explain it, just as soon as he woke up.

Jim knew Blair was loyal, kind, helpful, and smart, but the thing that had him convinced that Blair would wake up was because he wouldn't dare not to. Blair was much too stubborn to die, not when he knew Jim depended on him for his senses.

No, Blair would wake up, and everything would be okay.

Blair awakened slowly, unsure he actually wanted to be awake.

He didn't want to be alone, he knew he didn't deserve it, but he wanted Jim and Simon, and the rest of the guys...he needed them. He didn't have anyone else.

And then, as if his prays had been answered he felt them, and heard them.

"Nah, he's kill us for sure...you don't mess with the tresses" a deep voice from his knees spoke.  _That'd be Henri..H is here!_

A voice from his right agreed with Henri "All those curls better be where they are right now when he wakes up, I have no qualms about pointing him in the right direction of the culprit, there's no way I'm getting caught in the cross fire..." _And that's Bri...what are they doing here...I thought for sure..._

Blair's thoughts were cut off by a voice from near his feet, and a gentle pat to his left ankle "Anyone who wants to touch his hair will have to go through me...and Simon."  _What is Joel doing here too? After how stupid I was...they flew home early...I was sure..._ He was distracted again from laughter from right next to his head, deep booming chuckles "Volunteering me Joel...really, I thought you'd be able to deal with any threat to his hair by yourself..."  _Simon..._ Blair was so speechless, he was thoughtless, absolutely gobsmacked... _Simon of all people?_

Joel replied, also laughing, although he was serious "You wouldn't be there to protect the hair or me; you'd be there to protect the culprit...once I got my hands on him..." Several more people tittered with laughter, although none would actually be attempting to give a haircut.

"I doubt anyone is going to have to protect Blair's hair form being cut while he's asleep..." a voice said, this one different.

_This was voice was the one he had so hoped to hear, but had been almost positively sure he wouldn't, not after he broke their trust, again...JIM._

Brian was still laughing as he asked "Why's that Jim, you going to take up the shield?" Jim answered at the same time he stood to place one hand on either side of the small pale face, "Nope, anyone who dared to cut Blair's hair now, would have to be able to run faster than the energiser bunny himself...who's heartbeat going a hundred miles an hour would indicate that he has just woken up...wanna open those baby blues for me chief?"

Blair could feel the change in the room, it suddenly got quiet, several people got to their feet, crowding in a little, and hands touched his shoulders and hair, waiting. Blair himself was waiting, for the other shoe to drop, for this couldn't possibly be real,  _could it?_

Jim was a little worried at Blair's unresponsiveness, but hopeful, tried again "Blair, you're okay...everything's okay...just open your eyes..." Jim knew that Simon had already pushed the nurse call button, but wished they would hurry up, he was starting to get really scared.

Blair could hear Jim asking him to open his eyes, but found that he really didn't want to. What if all he saw were hate, pity and anger. But upon hearing the note of fear enter the gentle voice, Blair knew he had no choice, and opened his eyes, blinking into the bright light.

Blue met blue, but before anything could be said, the Doctors and nurses shoed them out, wanting to check Blair, who in all reality should be dead, or seriously brain damaged.

Dr Moreland came out 20mins later, expecting to have to go to the waiting room, but instead found five worried but optimistic men in the hall. "Detectives...I don't know how it's possible, but with some TLC Blair should make a full recovery, I see no signs of brain damage...although he is feeling a little doughy or woozy from the meds at the moment..." The men all broke out into beaming smiles; it seems they had averted disaster once again. "Thank-you for your care and consideration were we are concerned" Simon said, knowing the doctor had gone out of his way to make sure that the men had been allowed to visit whenever they could.

Doc Moreland just smiled, it wasn't often that a case such as this had such a happy outcome "Please, no thanks is necessary, the fact that Blair is well is thanks enough...you are all of course welcome to sit with him as long as you please...if all goes well he should be able to be released tomorrow morning, providing there are no relapses or complications and he has finished the final round of medication" Jim was already headed towards the room, sidling sideways during Dr Moreland's explanation, but he stopped at the Doctors next words "There is only one thing that may be cause for concern...Blair seems oddly...quiet...and if it were anyone but Blair I wouldn't worry...he's probably just tired...perhaps he will open up to you lot..."seeing the five men looking longingly at the door the doc continued "...Oh go on...call if you need anything..." he had barely finished speaking and the men were gone.

As soon as Jim and the others had been assured out the room, Blair had wanted nothing more than to call after them, but despite what he had done to their trust, they had still come to see him, shouldn't that be enough. Surely he didn't need babysitting all the time.

That realization didn't stop the sigh of relief when they returned the room. Jim took his seat on Blair left and Simon on the right. Brian, Henri and Joel pulled their chairs closer. Joel was the first to speak...

"Welcome back Blair, you had us all a mite scared, but we knew you'd pull through." Joel smiled at the boy, knowing he was probably a little out of kilter, what with having slept for the past week or so. "That's right Hairboy, we knew you'd wake up, but we were getting sick of waiting after nearly a week, so Henri hear was going to cut your hair, that would have woken you up quicksmart..." the others laughed, but they also noticed that Blair didn't, although they were aware that Blair's eyes widened with the news that he had been out for a week.

"You're lucky you woke up when you did, Jim was starting to scare the nurses, if it wasn't your pretty face, I think they would have started avoiding this room, probably the whole hall just to be on the safe side" again the laughter wasn't shared by Blair.

Simon asked, hoping to get an answer "How are you feeling Blair, I bet your leg hurts and those cuts weren't very nice to look at, I bet they are not much better to wear." Blair just looked at the kind faces surrounding him, looking at him expectantly, and he just couldn't stand it...it was too much.

After what he had put these men through over the past few months, the not sleeping and not even being able to remember to eat, the constant worry and concern, even the rightful anger ...and they still came to his rescue, wanted to be near him, help him...why hadn't they just left when it got to hard or he wore out his usefulness like all the other people in his life, even his own mother...there was something about him that made people want to hurt him, to abandon him...and although he tried to avoid it, he knew it would happen and he knew how to deal.

What he didn't know how to deal with was this constant help, kindness and loyalty.

The continual love.

"Blair...?" It was a gentle voice, but demanding in its insistence. Jim.

Blair turned to see the hopeful, happy light blue eyes, those of the one man who had been there for him, more than any other person he knew.

"I'm sorry..." was all he said before turbulent dark blue eyes closed, refusing to open again.

 

 


	4. The Real Blair

  
** The ** _**Real** _ **Blair**   


_Clack...Clack-Clack-Clack-Clack...Clack..._

Empty chip packets, salsa bottles and dropped doritos littered the floor, beer bottles overflowed from the bin and some lay spread across the table. All in all, the anal reputation that Jim's loft usually upheld was in complete tatters.

10pm Friday, Major Crime's poker night.

The game had finished up about 20 minutes ago, and the team had abandoned the table, moving their mess and noise from the kitchen to the dining room, flopping in a tangle of long legs, cushions, pretzel bowls and half cold beer, the TV on, some unacknowledged football game quietly buzzing in the background.

_The steady clack...clack...clack-Clack-Clack-Clack...continued from the bedroom, as it had all night._

"If I keep going this way...I'll have to delve into my retirement fund...!" Joel's deep voice was grumbling about his winnings, or lack thereof, egged on by Rafe, the indisputable winner.

Henri swatted the back of his partner's head "I still say you cheated...you've never done this well before..." his accusation was met with righteous dispute from the offended party.

Simon chuckled from his recliner, cigar in hand, unlit, as always, adding his two cents worth, " _None_  of us ever do that well...not when Sandburg plays...", the others all ignored Brian's sputtering in favour of acknowledging the truth of the statement.

Blair was the undeniable poker champ of Major Crimes, never failing to take the rest of them to the cleaners, with unholy glee...

_Clack-Clack-Clack-Clack...Clack...Clack..._

Yet he hadn't deigned to play this week, even though the game was at the loft...in fact the men hadn't seen hide nor hair of him the whole night...no sign that there was even another person in the house...

_Except the steady Clack...clack-Clack-Clack-Clack...clack..._

Seeing the introspective looks on several other faces, Simon knew they were thinking along the same lines.

In the three weeks that had passed since Blair had been discharged, everything had been rather...surreal.

It was almost as if there was a giant pink elephant that was always in the room, following them, wherever they should go.

And that was the normal part.

What was odd, was that Blair, and by extension everyone else, was doing his personal best to ignore the damned thing.

Usually he'd be riding it.

_Clack...Clack...Clack-Clack-Clack-Clack..._

Shaking off the strange stupor all the men had fallen into, Simon glanced at his watch, and knowing that several of them had work the next morning, said "I'm gonna make a move...these old bone don't like the 5am starts very much anymore...my place next fortnight..."

Simons initiative spread to the others over the next few minutes, each saying his goodbyes, Brian staying long enough to help Jim do a quick pick up, despite the general rule of 'host cleans'.

Soon enough it as just after 11pm and the loft was silent, once again immaculate.

_Clack-Clack-Clack... Clack-Clack-Clack-Clack-Clack-Clack..._

Jim stretched, used the bathroom and had a glass of water before heading for his own bed.

He stopped at the small bedroom at the foot of the stairs before ascending, sticking his head in.

_Clack-Clack-Clack-Clack-Clack...Clack-clack...clack...Clack-Clack-Clack...Clack-_ "Oh, hey Jim."

Blair looked up from his laptop, blue eyes absorbing in the dark lighting of the desk lamp.

Jim smiled softly, taking in the bedroom...which, despite the South American hanging and Tahitian candles...was as immaculate as the rest of the loft.

It only made his heart sink.

Eyes soft, Jim said "The guys are gone, I'm heading up to bed..." he hesitated minutely before continuing, "It's getting quite late...maybe you should think about doing the same..."

As he feared, Blair hummed his agreement, murmuring a "Yes Jim..." saved his work, powered down the laptop, shut the lid and climbed into bed, adding "Night Jim" as an afterthought.

Jim  _hated_ it.

But he replied with a quite, "Night Chief..." and went to bed.

OOO

Jim heard shuffling early the next morning, it had awakened him from a rather restful slumber and upon glancing at his clock, he realised that Blair was up at 5:30 am.

He was just about to get up and check on his guide, who was most adamantly,  **NOT** a morning person, when the soft  _Clack-Clack-Clack_ answered his unspoken unease.

Sighing, but knowing he wouldn't go back to sleep anyway, Jim rolled to his feet and headed for the shower...his alarm would have gone off in a half hour anyway, so he didn't really mind.

He was more concerned.

Jim showered, and then dressed. He drank his first cup of coffee as he cooked a breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast, savouring the rich aromatic brew that Blair had chosen from Simon's supplier.

Just before 7am Blair greeted Jim with a pleasant, if a little flat "Good Morning" as he took his own shower, then joined Jim at the kitchen table.

Accepting the full plate and glass of juice with nary a sigh of complaint.

Blair sat and ate breakfast with Jim, when normally he would wait until the last moment; grabbing a thermo of coffee and a piece of toast as he sprinted out the door, if he bothered at all.

Jim  _hated_  it.

But he smiled at Blair's murmured "thanks" and they headed to the precinct together.

OOO

Simon heard the elevator ding, and looked up briefly, liking to know who was in his bullpen and why. Seeing Jim and Blair exit, he smiled, turning back to his paperwork, trust infinite.

An instant later he looked back, although for a moment he couldn't pinpoint exactly  _what_  about the two had re-garnered his attention.

Then the difference hit him.

Or the lack of difference.

There was no bright vest, no mismatched socks, coloured beads, feathers, earrings or bright shirts...just standard jeans and dark blue polo under a plain denim jacket...normal, ordinary and respectable.

Simon  _hated_ it.

He sighed and took a sip of his coffee, wondering at the sudden taste of ash.

The elevator dinged again and Simon watched as H and Rafe exited, relaxing as his detectives settled into their areas, shuffling paperwork and logging onto computers.

And so the day began.

Four cups of coffee, three phone calls from the mayor's office, two refusals from the DA and one extremely vexing anthropologist later, and Simon was ready to call it a day...and it was barely half past nine.

Speaking of anthropologists...Simon looked at the report again, just a routine assessment as required, about a bust that had gone down last week. It was written in Sandburg's loopy scrawl, but signed by Jim Ellison, something that Simon was used to seeing by now, and often glad to see, as Jim's written word wasn't his strongest ability.

Ellison didn't seem to understand that, _'Told Sandburg to stay in truck, lost gun, tackled perp, Sandburg hit perp with coffee mug, arrested perp...Told Sandburg he should have stayed in truck_ 'was just not satisfactory.

However, the report he had in hands didn't read much differently, admittedly it was in full sentences, but it lacked any exposition or frills that would usually be scattered throughout the amusing report.

The little asides that often appeared in Jims reports, about all manner of odd and irrelevant things often gave Simon reason to shake his head in exasperation, but the reports frequently made an appearance at department meetings and the brass habitually requested Jims latest report for 'review' regardless of the triviality of the particular case.

This report was as by-the-book, regulation and textbook that Simon had ever seen, as grey and bleak as Sandburg himself had seemed since the incident.

And Simon  _hated_ it.

Tucking the report back into the folder, disappointed and concerned, despite the fact that there was nothing wrong with it; the report was perfect in every way.

It just wasn't Blair.

Watching Jim and Blair go into the break room, Simon wondered when the Sandburg Zone had become such a well liked holiday destination, and when it might be accepting guests again.

OOO

Jim almost sighed as he watched Blair make tea, almost, but not quite; he knew that Blair would be on him in an instant if he thought something was bothering Jims senses.

Or at least he would have once upon a time, Jim wasn't so sure anymore...but...the tea, the plain, normal, boring, not fruit this or herb concoction that, from some distant land...just regular old tea...just how Jim liked it.

Except Jim  _hated_ it.

He accepted the cup with a smile that he hoped reached his eyes, but somehow, he didn't think so.

Contemplative over his tea, Jim thought about the positive aspects of the seemingly  _new_ Blair.

He stayed in the truck, didn't make a mess, didn't argue, let Jim eat what he want, when he wanted, wasn't up at all hours, slept regularly, ate regularly, was mature and confidently calm...

Swilling the last dregs in the cup, Jim couldn't help about the number of times he had  _wished_ for this new Blair...but now that it seemed he was here to stay...Jim couldn't help see but a shadow of the  _old_ Blair... the  _real_ Blair.

Jim knew that this radical change was due to, at least in part, the week Blair ended up in hospital and the few days afterwards...but he couldn't see the correlation...and speaking to this new Blair about it was out of the question.

Jim had only tried broaching the topic once, but the utter terror and despair that Blair had shown before he stated to panic had been enough to warn Jim from the topic forever... knowing that Blair had very nearly died was awful enough for him, he didn't' want to be responsible for scaring his guide with that memory.

Simon had told Jim about the few times he had even mentioned that week, Blair had gone pale and shaky, retreating into himself, giving monosyllable answers and jerky nods or shakes of his head, always becoming even more  _perfect new_ Blair the next few days.

The others had also tried, with about the same degree of success, and the final general consensus was to leave it alone until it was a bit less raw in Blair's mind, and  _new_  Blair had retreated to whatever hell he had sprung from.

OOO

Instead of the reversal of behaviour and personality that the men had hoped for, over the weeks that followed, Blair became even less the outgoing, gregarious firecracker they had known and loved, becoming quieter, calmer, and much more reflective, much more...boring.

He was always there when someone needed him, but never seemed to go out of his way to be  _involved_  in their lives anymore; it was as if he had decided that he now required an invitation to intervene, whereas before he had always just stuck his nose in, invited or not.

The guys had spoken at length about the situation, always when Blair wasn't present, not wanting to upset him, and as he never attended the poker nights anymore, these proved to be suitable.

After nearly 3 months in which Blair had continued to become more and more this  _new_  quite, unobtrusive man, the detectives had started to believe that this was who Blair now was... that it wasn't a cover or a facade.

Perhaps the incident had forced him to change, to mature and grow up beyond a shadow of a doubt, to become this bleak, lacklustre shadow of his previous self.

It wasn't that they thought the  _old_ Blair's behaviour had been inappropriate or immature, in reality the bright childlikeness and inspiring innocence had been some of the young man's most endearing qualities.

Qualities that now appeared to be deeply buried, if not actually gone, in all the months, there had not even been one instance in which Blair's old personality had shown through, and it was this more than anything that caused the men to think that this  _new_ Blair was now the  _real_  Blair.

And they  _hated_ it.

Basically, Blair did what he was told, when he was told, by who he was told. He was sensible and mature and reasonable about all things. Blair didn't protest orders like  _stay in the truck_ , no longer acted rashly during busts, never used ingenious methods like fire hoses or vending machines, in brash, heart stopping methods that had Jim and Simon dually cringing and beaming for weeks. Blair didn't go to bat for every down on his luck girl, boy, man, woman or dog they encountered, he wasn't the neo-hippy-witchdoctor-punk of old, and Jim  _never_  had the urge to kick his ass down seven flights of stairs to the lobby.

In essence, the Blair the men had known and loved was seemingly gone forever, and they just didn't know if they could ever love his replacement the same way.

_And then the next incident happened, and 'old' Blair had reared his head with a vengeance._

OOO

It had started with a cry of "Gun in the bullpen!" at approximately 11:30, Sunday morning.

Simon, in his office, unseen behind closed door and drawn blinds had immediately phoned it in, trusting that his detectives could contain the situation if anyone could.

He had only just hung up the phone, confident that the words had gotten to where it needed to go, when the door was shoved open, and glad for the timing, Simon looked up into the desperate face of their attacker.

"Get out here..." The man snarled...after a glance at Simons desk he added, "Captain!"

Simon hands held non threatening in the air, rose from his seated position, and took a little unholy glee as the man realised that Simon topped him by a good 5 inches. Staying as placid as possible Simon allowed himself to be herded into his bullpen, and the situation soon became clear.

The gun wielders partner had his detectives and staff bunched up against the far right wall, hands on heads, attention drawn to the gun steadily pointed at them.

He could see H and Rafe off towards the left, and Joel was with them; the three had been working together on a case that that required Joel explosive expertise.

Rhonda was also there, looking as calm and collected as ever despite the situation and Simon was glad of her calibre, many of the department's secretarial staff would be in hysterics by now, he nodded to her, and she nodded back, indicating she was fine.

Two beat cops were at the far right of the group, having just dropped by to sign reports and hand papers over on a case, in which they had been the responding officers before Major Crimes had taken over. Both were young, green and set slightly apart from his people, not really belonging. McAllen and Forbes...if he remembered correctly, and he nodded reassuringly to both men.

Jim was the only other one there, and Simon was a little surprised to see his unofficial second in command present, as Jim had been in court all morning, he must have finished early. A quick sweep of his gaze over the area surrounding Jim didn't reveal the man's guide, a fact for which Simon was grateful. Despite how causally Jim was leaning against the back window, Simon could see the tightly coiled readiness, and knew Jim would back him, however this turned out.

Simon was shoved over to join them, several sets of hand steadying him as he almost crashed into them from the force of the push.

The gun-man was angry.

Turning to face the pair, Simon started negotiations, "My name is Simon Banks, Captain of Major Crimes...if you would lower your guns and let my people go, I will do my best to assist you however I can..." Simon could tell that the pair wouldn't go for his offer, but regulations were to be followed...

As expected the man waved his gun threateningly, "Captain Banks...I will have to decline your offer... **there is nothing left to resolve...** " he took a deep breath, as if consciously trying to calm himself, "The  _assistance_  of this police station have already cost more than can ever be repaid...I'm Damon St Claire and this..." he nodded towards his partner, "Is my wife Lecretia...and you killed our son!" The man's voice broke and Simon's heart sank.

He did recognise the name... Several weeks ago, Richard St Claire, a 22 year old student at Rainier University had been instrumental in taking down a student/teacher drug ring, a true innocent who was in the wrong place at the right time to have information that police had been unable to previously attain.

They had busted the majority of the ring, and it had been considered a huge success, but then one week later, Richard St Claire had been found hung, drawn and quartered on the U ice hockey rink, the message clear.

Weeks of investigation had turned up nothing, and the case was currently still open.

Simon breathed a curse; grief stricken parents did not make for the most reasonable hostage takers.

Simon replied, hoping to appeal to the mature adult who had raised a fine boy, " Mr and Mrs St Claire, on behalf of the entire department I offer you our deepest condolences for the tragedy that was your son's death...but I am unable to fathom why you have done this...what you hope to achieve..."

Mrs St Claire barely stifled a sob, but her grip on the gun never wavered, and Mr St Claire was just as determined when he answered "Your condolences are empty, all I want is justice...justice for my son! His death was major Crime, hence our presence in this particular department, and when the phone rings, as it will in a few minutes, you will tell the negotiators the following demands, fulfilled in return for your, and you're people's freedom..." Simon's attention was past the fact that the man knew he had already called for help, anyone of minor intelligence would know, but instead he lingered on the calm, determined and reasonable facade that St Claire showed, almost hiding the writhing madness beneath.

Simon nodded that he was paying attention, almost afraid to know what course of action that madness had decided on.

Seeing his attention, Damon St Claire continued "My son was 22 when he was murdered...therefore you have 22 hours to bring the person responsible for his death to justice..." Simo0n was almost surprised at this...the timeline was harsh, but the demand almost _reasonable_ , wanting to be sure Simon questioned, "You will allow us to go and investigate..." he was cut off when St Claire snorted derisively.

"No, you and your people will stay here...Vice, as the original officers, will continue the investigation...but I have seen your records, and know you have the highest bust rate in the country, therefore I will allow you to liaise...by phone..." St Claire rattled this off, like he had practised it, which he probably actually had.

Simon sighed, but this was much more like what he had been expecting, he was about to question some of the details with St Claire, and ask that the guns be lowered, promising their full cooperation, when, as expected, the phone rang.

St Claire indicated that Simon should take the call, adding as Simon moved to the nearest phone, "Oh and make sure they are aware of the fact that for every hour they are unsuccessful...I will shoot one of the major crimes hostages..."

Simon spun around to stare at him, but St Claire raised the gun and Simon picked up the phone, quickly explaining the situation to the hostage negotiator.

OOO

Within 10 minutes Vice was on the case, Simon was informing St Claire that they did not negotiate with terrorists, and St Claire was informing him, that negotiate or not, if there was no result in 48 minutes, one of them would die.

While this was happening, Lecretia had gone around and divested any officer of their gun, should they be wearing one, and was currently locking them all in the top draw of Rafe's desk. Simon was busy negotiating between the phone and the St Claire's.

The minutes ticked by, so far Vice knew that it was one of the drug suppliers who had murdered St Claire, but they had no idea which.

And then St Claire spoke the words they had dreaded, "Inform them that it has been an hour, and that I will now kill the first hostage..." Simon almost protested, but the gun in St Claire's hands had him passing the message on, as his heart clenched in fear, not for himself, as he thought that was unlikely, but for all the men and woman under his care.

Lecretia shoved her gun into Forbes's back, and used it to push him to the middle of the room, choice obviously made.

At 25, he was the youngest.

Simon was hard pressed to contain a breath of relief, as guilty as it made him feel, Forbes wasn't one of  _his._

The officer was white, hands shaking and face pinched, obviously terrified, but he was conducting himself with honour.

St Claire, holding, but not yet aiming the gun, asked "What's your name boy?"

Forbes answered, head up, "Officer Andrew Forbes...and I ask that you not belittle me by calling me anything else..."

St Claire cracked a grim smile and he nodded as he spoke, "Officer, you understand that your imminent death is the responsibility of the men and woman you work with, due to their failure to do their job..."

Andrew shook his head as he answered "I do not see it that way, my death will be the empty result of a grief stricken father, an action that I believe will make you no better than the one who killed your son..."

St Claire's eyes widened in rage, and he raised the gun with obvious intent to use it when Andrews spoke again, this time his voice no more than a whisper " _Sir...I have a father as well_..."

The soft pleading seemed to freeze St Claire, the slight shake in his hands showing the first smidgen of understanding...and one of Simon's men took advantage of it, before it could be destroyed by the grieving insanity.

"I don't...have a father that is..." St Claire's, Simons and the majority of the hostages looked towards the voice as he continued to speak, "In fact I'm a much better target...Three for three to be honest..." in that instant, Blair succeeded in wrenching himself out from behind Jim, where the sentinel had obviously been concealing him.

Blair stepped to the front of the group, stopping when Jims grasp on his shoulder meant he could go no further.

St Claire stared at the man...boy, as he stepped forward, into the gun-man's line of sight and determinedly announced that he was a better choice to be murdered.

Simon glared wholeheartedly at the anthropologist, unable to fathom the though pattern behind his actions. It made no sense to offer himself to St Claire, there was no reasonable explanation behind it...Simon couldn't understand it.

And then, looking into the bright blue of Blair's eyes and the  _aura_  of energy that spazzed around the slight form, Simon realised...that _this_  was the  _real_  Blair.

And was at once, so happy, beyond furious, deeply confused and absolutely terrified.

In all, it made for quite a mix of emotions, and from what he could see; he wasn't the only one feeling them.

Before Simon had time to further contemplate this, St Claire had shaken himself from the stupor he had fallen into, and had swung to look at Blair, gun still pointed unwaveringly at Andrew Forbes.

"Get back with the others! I've made my choice..." St Claire growled, and Jim tried tugging Blair back towards him, but despite his smaller stature, Blair held firm.

Eye contact not wavering, Blair addressed St Claire again, "Why did you choose Andy?" Blair turned to look at the group around him, continuing, "You've got a woman...You've got a captain...You've got the three time cop of the year winner...You've got several decorated detectives...why Andrew Forbes?"

St Claire stared at him, never having considered that he would have anyone questioning his choice while planning this, but he answered anyway, "He's the youngest, I kill him first and everyone knows that we have no limitations..." as convoluted as it was, his reasoning was sound.

Blair threw a spanner in the works, "Except you're wrong, I told you, I'm three for three...I don't have a father...no need to feel guilty on that account...and I'm younger than Andrew..." he trailed of as St Claire sputtered, stared and seemed absolutely bamboozled.

Finally the gun wielder asked, "What's your name and how old are you...?"

Blair grinned softly, and Simon knew that Blair was aware that he was drawing the man in, that his plan, however foolish and brash it was, seemed to be working and perhaps he was gaining some control of the situation, or would create an opening where someone else could, and for that Simon wanted to hug him.

Or smack the crap out of him.

Blair answered his question, trying to make a definite connection, "Blair Sandburg...and I'm 22..."

St Claire faced off against the anthropologist, mind off Forbes, even though the gun still pinned the officer, a trifle disconcerted, he asked the boy in front of him, "Do you realise that you're asking me to kill you...that I will take this gun and blow a hole in your head...you're not saving Andrew Forbes, but you are condemning yourself..." he trailed off as he saw that Blair actually  _did_ understand exactly what he was doing, and that he  _truly didn't care._

Blair nodded to the man with the gun, eyes friendly and welcoming, "I know exactly what I am saying Mr St Claire...and I know each of these men...and woman...well enough to know that while I don't have nothing to lose," here Blair stopped, and stared hard at Simon, one small hand coming up to rest on Jims, a soft smile gracing his lips, before he added "...I am the least useful in this room...killing me will give them another hour...and perhaps between now and then you will see sense, and realise that this useless quest for vengeance is not what your son would have wanted" Blair could not put it more succinctly than that, and so, fell silent.

St Claire did not know what to make of this boy, hadn't factored this brazen display of courage and conscience, and did not know how to deal with him. St Claire nodded to his wife, who immediately swung her gun to Andrew Forbes, St Claire himself, wanting to shake the perfect exterior Blair was showing, break the mature calm, St Claire raised the gun and crossed the short distance between himself and the boy, stopping a bare arms length from him. Blair couldn't help but shiver at the sudden cold of the gun barrel, as it grazed along his neck and stopped behind his ear, half hidden by the dark curls. Ignoring the deadly looks he was receiving from most of the men in the room, St Claire snarled, "Do not presume to speak about my son, you didn't know him, you have no right!"

Blair just sighed and answered the unspoken challenge, "I told you Mr St Claire, that I was three for three...I don't have a father, I'm the youngest...and I did know Richard...I'm responsible for your son's death..."Blair stopped as several people around the room gasped or gaped at him, and Jim tightened his hand on the thin shoulder, ready to relocate by force should this unexpected revelation cause an unwanted reaction in St Claire.

The gun-man stared at Blair in shock for a moment, unable to fathom this newest detail...as Blair's words sunk in; St Claire took several shuffling steps backwards, removing the gun from such close personal proximity to the boy, causing many inward sighs of relief. Finally St Claire asked "You knew Richard?" and ignored the way his wife breathing hitched at the sound of her dead son's name.

Blair, taking the opening that St Claire was offering, dove in, hurrying to explain, "I'm a teacher and a student at Rainier, Richard was in my ANT111 Class, and part of my CMS study group...he was a student, and a friend...and I told him he should help the police with the drug investigation...therefore I'm responsible for his death..." Blair bowed his head, obviously waiting, although for what they weren't sure.

When it happened, it was all over in the space of a heartbeat. Each event steamrolled in a domino effect at breakneck pace, until finally and suddenly it was over.

Mrs St Claire spun the gun away from Andrew Forbes.

Andrew finally cracked and almost dropped from exhausted relief.

McAllen, Forbes partner went to his side immediately, helping Andrew stay on his feet.

St Claire aimed the gun at Blair.

Jim yanked Blair to the side and growled.

Simon shouted as he moved to stand in front of his smallest team member, his youngest friend "Don't you  _dare_..."

Rafe, H and Joel all moved towards Blair.

And then a gun went off, and everyone froze.

St Claire was already aiming again, and this time the shot would not miss, "YOU KILLED MY SON!"

He fired, several people shouted, Blair was physically tugged behind Jim, and St Claire was shoved into so hard that it sent the shot flying, harmlessly embedding itself in Simon's office door.

Looking up from where the shove had sent him to the floor, St Claire raised the gun towards his attacker, and was shocked to come face to face with his wife.

"Lecretia..." he whispered, stunned.

The woman tucked her bright red hair further under the cap she was wearing and smiled softly at her husband, tears making her pale cheeks blotchy as she spoke, "Damian...he's just boy...younger than Richard even..."

St Claire's face went from angry red, to irate puce and then abruptly faded to a pasty grey, his eyes shined with a madness different from before, then cleared as his eyes suddenly widened, dropping to the murder-some weapon clutched in his hands, as if to ask, _where did this come from._  From the gun, he looked up into the young face not ten feet from him, huge blue eyes calm and wise. St Claire stared at him for what seemed a short eternity, before slumping, murmur barely audible " _Why aren't you older...?_ "

And then, as suddenly as it had started, the whole debacle was over. St Claire dropped his weapon, and Mrs St Claire voluntarily handed hers to Henry, and then back up was there and the St Claire's arrested and escorted from the room.

As they exited the doorway, a voice called after them... "Wait!...Mr St Claire..." all movement stopped at the sound of Blair's call, the arresting officers looking to Simon for their cues, the big police captain nodding to indicate that it was okay.

Blair hurried over to the couple, speaking quickly, "Mr St Claire...Richard would want me to tell you that in the end he made the decision to help because it was what he thought you would do...he said that you and Mrs St Claire had raised him to do the right thing...and that he hoped you would be proud of him for upholding your principals...Mr St Claire...be proud of who your son was...it's all you have left..."

Blair trailed off, having done what he, personally, could do to soothe their grief. Mr St Claire stared back into the bottomless blue, seemingly wanting to say something... in the end he just nodded to Blair and turned to help escort his sobbing wife from the room.

And then they were gone and it was truly done.

Andy Forbes, still understandably shaken, was guided out of Major Crimes by his attentive partner, presumably to give statements and take a quite breath of relief.

Questions were asked and answered and statements were given, and then Simons glare had the personnel finishing up and departing.

Finally it was only the gang left, Rhonda having been pleased to be allowed to head home.

Joel slumped into the seat behind Rafe's desk, Rafe and H moving to sit on the actual desk, Simon leaned against the opposite desk, hitching a hip, leaning back and crossing his arms, a gesture made all the more foreboding by his 6'4 size.

Blair stared back at the men, eyes wide, and hands fluttering nervously against his sides, a slight rocking presence in his stance. A deep breath, a quick shake of his head and Blair started to fade before their eyes. The unrestrained movement stopped, Blair sighed, his head came up, shoulders evened out and his eyes dulled... it was as if a shutter had come down over the sun.

"Right...If you don't need me for anything else...I've got a lecture at the..." Blair was moving towards t door as he spoke, as if he really expected them to just let him go.

Rafe and H stared.

Joel growled.

Simon glared.

The hand that came down on his shoulder was hard and firm and Blair let it drag him over to the others, and shove him shown into H's pulled out chair.

"Sit", Jim's vice was like molten steel, and so Blair sat.

And then they proceeded to stare at each other for the next minute, no one sure what to say or ask.

Finally Jim broke the silence, "Are you okay...?"

Blair stared at him for an instant, seemingly unsure as to the reason behind Jim s question.

When he answered, it was with the same calm, cool precision he had portrayed over the past several months, "I'm fine Jim...are you guys okay?" as  _not_ Blair returned the query, the other men all began to nod and answer in the affirmative, until Jim disagreed.

Smoothly moving from where he stood behind Blair, Jim knelt in front of his guide, his hands came out to rest on Blair's knees and softly he spoke "No Blair...I'm not fine...nor is Simon, or Rafe or H or Joel...and neither are you..."

Blair looked fit to argue or disagree, but Jims hand over his mouth silenced his protests, whatever nature they had been.

"No, quiet... _you are not fine..._ " his hand still over Blair's mouth, Jim continued, "You were just held at gunpoint... _you had a gun to your head!_ You could have been killed...  **you cannot be fine with that...** _I know that we, sure as hell, are not..."_

Blair's eyes were wide in his suddenly pale face, staring into Jims face as if he were all that encompassed Blair's field of vision.

"I really am fine Jim...nothing happened...I didn't get hurt...no one did..." the words were clear, but sounded anything but convincing.

Simon's deep rumble joined the conversation, "Luck Sandburg...luck... _and your inability to behave rationally..."_

Jim removed his hand, allowing Blair to speak, and turning to look at Simon, he said "I...he ...St Claire was going to kill Officer Forbes...what else could I do?"

Simon actually cracked a smile, "Exactly...it was stupid, dangerous and illogical...but it worked...and you defused the situation...just like you would have done at anytime a few months ago..."

AT this subtle mention of the incident, Blair shuddered dramatically, almost physically pulling away from Jims touch, except that Jim wouldn't allow it.

"You've changed Blair...and we don't think it's an improvement...we want to know why...tell us about what happened when you landed in hospital last time..." Jim's request was more of a soft demand, and it was obvious he was expecting an answer.

Blair was physically shaking, "Jim... _I can't..._  please...I don't want to..."

Jim was not swayed and he prodded Blair "It's fine...everything is going to be fine however,...you're going to tell us what the hell happened...we are going to discuss it and then it will all be over...and you will go back to being  _real_  Blair...not this grey slated shadow you've been wearing for the past few months"

Blair swayed alarmingly in his seat, Simons hands came down on his shoulders, steadying him as the venom began to flow, "You...I wasn't...I ...I  _can't be him anymore!_  He's weak and useless, a burden! Everything he touches turns to dust and dirt...everyone leaves...because he's too much trouble...I'm not him...he doesn't exist anymore...he can't force you away from me... _he's dead...gone..._ "

As Blair spoke he recovered his breath and poise, sitting up straight, he felt Simons and then Jim's hands reluctantly leave him, as it became obvious that he was completely convinced of what he was saying. "I fixed it... _me..._ I'm never going to be  _him_ again... _ever..._ now...I have lectures to attend _._ "

He got to his feet, straightening his clothes as he went, looking more regulated than Blair Sandburg ever did, eyes forward he strode towards the elevator door, pushing the call button, he paused with his hand on the door frame, he spoke over his shoulder, with soft eyes and softer voice, "I'm sorry Jim...I won't be him...I  _can't_  be him...you'll see that I'm much better this way...it's all better this way...just give me some time...you'll see..."

He turned towards the elevator again and waited.

The relaxed stance went rigid, and the hand on the frame became white knuckled in its grip as Jim spoke, but Blair didn't turn around.

"I already hate him..." Jims voice was soft, but firm and decided a he continued, "We all hate him, he's fake...a...a shadow of the old Blair..."

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, but Blair didn't move, Jim added, hoping that Blair was actually hearing what he  _wasn't_ saying.

"He's not fun, he's not...real...not the way that you used to be...kind and generous and...Energetic and young and happy... so unique...and ...just...  _real_... "

The elevator door started to close, and Jim barely breathed..., and then Blair rounded his shoulders stubbornly and stepped into the car, turning as Jim called, almost pleadingly, yet so pointedly "He's the only one we love, Chief..."

And then the elevator doors shut on Blair, blue eyes downcast, guilty as he mouthed a sentinel audible " _Sorry_ ".

And then he was gone... for good?

OOO

It was a quiet group that packed up and headed home from major crimes that evening, unusually so after the eventful day.

Each wondering if the bleak dirty grey film that had spread across their worldview was really congruent with the strangely anti-climactic final curtain call of the 'Sandburg Zone'.

OOO

Blair didn't come home that night, and at 8:30pm, Jim had covered the uneaten plate of lasagne and put it in the fridge.

AT 9:30, Jim had given up on the Jags game currently running ignored on the television.

After reading the same line four times, Jim put down his latest crime mystery, and looked towards the glowing neon digits to his left, 10:30.

At 11:30, Jim most definitely DID NOT; check to make sure there were no boxes in Blair's room. There wasn't.

At 12:30, Jim was unable to stop himself from reaching for the phone, praising his incredible restraint thus far, and started to dial Blair's number.

And then the phone chirped and Jim thumbed into the text message.

From Blair,

_AT U, Busy, C u 2morro. B_

At 12:31, Jim didn't have his boots on, keys out and door locked.

But he had pulled on a pair of jeans...the boots were next.

And then he remembered, this was  _new_ Blair, and he didn't need rescuing. Looking after... _New_ Blair didn't need Jim.

From Jim,

_K._

Jim didn't go to the U and Blair didn't come home.

OOO

The next morning, Jim got ready for work on autopilot, knowing without looking that Blair hadn't been home yet.

He arrived at work and from the hopeful and then crestfallen stares he received from the other members of the major crimes gang, Jim had a pretty decent idea what they had been thinking.

No Blair.

Everyone settled into their desks and a very muted morning of paperwork began.

OOO

9:20am, and the elevator dinged.

Technicolor infused; a full fare marching band, several Hawaiian dancers, and the energiser bunny piled out in his beaded multicolour vest, several earrings, halo of chestnut curls doing nothing to hide eyes as blue as starlight is bright.

OOO

His eyes sought Jims, and hesitantly he spoke,

"I'm not very good at this...I've never been the one to leave before...only the one left behind...and I know how that feels...I can't promise I won't stuff up again, or not listen and nearly die again, or stay in the truck, or lose at poker or any of the things I know you used to say to me...but...I-I...I _never..._ want to feel like I did last night...Jim only sent one letter...barely even a lift of the eyebrow... _he...I..._ would have been dragged home kicking and screaming...or at least thoroughly scowling...and  _he_  would have let you...because you wanted to...I get it now... _and_..if you'll have him... _Real_ Blair would like to come home..."

And then he smiled.

And the world was right again.

 


End file.
